


Relics

by bluntblade



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Lightsabers aren't all the same after all, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sparring, The Force Unleashed reference sort-of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22225564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluntblade/pseuds/bluntblade
Summary: An old lightsaber brings some of Rey's struggles with legacy to the surface.
Relationships: Kaydel Ko Connix & Rey, Kaydel Ko Connix/Rey, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Relics

“We think it's at least fifty years old,” Rose said. “A legacy of the Clone Wars and the Jedi Purge.” 

Rey turned the lightsaber hilt over in her hands. It was a hefty weapon, much more so than the Skywalker saber whose broken parts were locked away on the Falcon. This one was much less elegant in its design. It was brutal and utilitarian; something about it suggested that its maker had intended it to be wielded with armoured fingers.

She looked at Rose. “Whose was it?”

“Hard to say, but I can make a few guesses.” Rose patted a stack of old texts. A Resistance spy had recovered it from a crime boss's den on Nar Shaddaa, after the gangster's sleazy little empire messily imploded. With Rey offworld herself at the time, it had come to Rose first and she'd been researching its likely origins. 

“Semek Losth is one candidate, died on the day of Order 66. Hero of the Kamino campaign, it seems. Second is Damiar Gorennaus - now he actually lived long enough to fight for one of the early factions that, eventually, became the Rebel Alliance. Not that he saw that day himself,” she said, looking over one page. “Darth Vader caught wind of him and that was that.”

“You find more stories about dead Jedi than I'm eager to hear,” Rey admitted, taking a swig of tea from her flask. 

Rose nodded guiltily. “Sorry Rey. I'm afraid there's no getting round history. If it helps, Gorennaus went down fighting. The old Imperial records say his division's last stand broke an entire Stormtrooper legion before the Inquisitors got him.”

Rey tried to look more reassured than she felt. Rose’s contrite expression told her it hadn't worked.

“One more, and we only have a single name for this guy: Kota. Now he should really interest you, Rey. The transcripts speculate about him being a Grey Jedi.” 

Rey took the proffered paper and examined it. “That looks like what the old texts describe. He was tough too. Says here that Vader dealt with him personally, and the battle gutted a whole space station.” She looked wistfully at the grizzled warrior in the picture, before looking out at the Agnoan sea. “We could do with that sort of Jedi now.”

She wanted badly to be that kind of Jedi. In truth she was a large part of the way there, even with the time she had to put into studying. She'd led troops on raids and rescue missions, taken down plenty of enemies by now.

She wanted to fit the legacy of a Jedi like the mysterious Kota. She wanted the saber’s bright green blade to seem right for her. She wanted the weapon to fit her as well as the Skywalker one had. 

The problem was that, ten minutes into sparring with the saber on lower power, she knew it didn’t, and everyone could see it didn’t.

“You’re flagging, captain,” Nyzar told her. The big Zabrak, one of the “Scrappers” Poe had assigned to fight with Rey, made a virtue of bluntness. “That broadsword's too heavy for you.”

Rey’s breath sawed in and out of her as she raised the lightsaber again. Nyzar raised an eyebrow, but fell into a guard position with the practice blade which stood in for his axe.

She went on the attack. She was on the tightrope between the light and dark, feeding off her own frustration and the acid burn in her arms. She put Nyzar on the back foot and kept driving him, earning an appreciative grimace from him.

But there was an element of desperation to her attack - if she let her opponent go on the offensive, she wouldn’t be able to weather it. So when he rallied for a moment and swung at her she ducked under, driving a stab at his thigh which he just managed to parry. Then she pivoted and drove the heavy hilt straight into his core.

With a pained grunt and then a wheezing groan, Nyzar went down on his knees. “Nicely done,” he managed as Rey turned back to face him. “But my point still stands. You've taken down one opponent - how about the next?”

Rey heard another practice blade activate behind her and wheeled around to find Kuoma, one of the smaller and faster Scrappers, coming at her with his staff. No chance to take the initiative for herself - he put her on the defensive and just kept coming, tormenting her screaming muscles. She found herself flinching, trying to evade attacks rather than block them. And then Kuoma stepped past her, planting his heel in the back of her knee, and Rey found herself falling forward.

Her bark of anger earned her a mouthful of grass and dirt. And now the pain she'd shunted to the back of her mind flooded her limbs, which had gone to rubber. She rolled over awkwardly, spitting and groaning, to find Kuoma offering her a hand up.

“Urgh,” she responded, finding she couldn’t even raise a hand to decline. “I… thugh.” She spat out another gobbet of grass and mud. “Need a moment.”

“Have this at least.” Kuoma crouched down to hand her a bottle of water. “I only ask you clean it before you get it back to me.” He had trained as a monk in his boyhood and retained the hushed politeness, which made him stick out like a sore thumb among the Scrappers.

Rey laughed a little at that. Then she turned to Nyzar, who’d managed to get himself sat up. “Point taken, Nyzar.”

But the simmering anger she felt wasn’t all that easy to shrug off. It hung over her through watching the rest of the session and then a near-scalding shower. It was still very much there when Kaydel came back from the day's briefings to find Rey with her hair still wet, wrapped in a towel, sat on the bed and glaring at the saber.

“Hey. Still hurting?” Rey looked up at her in puzzlement. Kaydel shrugged apologetically. “I bumped into Finn and he told me.”

Rey groaned. “Does everyone know?”

“You  _ were  _ practicing out in a field.” Kaydel squeezed her shoulder a little and saw Rey wince. “You haven’t put anything on those arms, have you?” She sighed. “Rey…”

Watching Kaydel potter around their cabin brought a little smile back to Rey’s face, as her partner dug out a tube of soothing gel and insisted on massaging it into her arms and shoulders. 

“Tell me you got some mouthwash at least. If I kiss you and find grass, you’re sleeping on the floor tonight. Now,” Kaydel drummed a little on Rey’s shoulders. “Better?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

“And you’re feeling ready to talk?” Rey nodded, and Kaydel snuggled up next to her. 

She took a breath. “I’m expected to carry a legacy that I’ve only known at second hand, and I’m only now realising what that actually means. I’m picking through the past, trying to make sense of where I fit into all this…”  _ I need someone to show me my place. I still do. _

In the moment she’d felt like she had some kind of resolution, back on the  _ Supremacy _ . Over the following weeks, however, she had begun to understand that accepting her origins wasn’t the same as actually grappling with them. 

“I feel,” she began, “alone. Even surrounded by my friends, even with you.” Kaydel’s face fell, and she immediately regretted her words. “Sorry. I said that badly, it’s nothing you’ve said or done. You're wonderful. It’s…” she put her head in her hands.

“Don’t rush it,” Kaydel murmured.

Rey found her hands grasping at air. “I’m… from nowhere, and that goes for the Force too. I haven’t anyone to teach me and I’m trying to pick lessons from old books.” 

“But that’s coming on OK, isn’t it?”

She made a noncommittal sound. 

Kaydel pressed on nonetheless. “You’ve talked about how Luke viewed the old order, so if you’re trying to find what’s worth keeping and what should change, you have the right idea. In the same way,” she reached out and tapped a finger on the lightsaber, “you shouldn’t be cutting yourself up because some old Jedi’s weapon isn’t right for you. We’ll get you the parts soon, hunt down a Kyber crystal and you’ll have a lightsaber that’s better for you than any old relic. Because it’ll be  _ your _ saber, and no one else’s.”

She smiled, in that way that Rey would have to fight not to return. 

“I should probably pull some clothes on.”

Kaydel shrugged. “Or you could come to dinner in a towel. I’m sure people would enjoy that.”

Rey laughed as she went to find something suitable. But the doubt was still there, sitting there just like the saber.


End file.
